


Pulling for Gold (A Hard Won Battle)

by maccabird_23



Series: We're only Friends for the Camera (We're Lovers when they Stop Rolling) [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 02:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2531081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maccabird_23/pseuds/maccabird_23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all came to Jamie at once – the realization that he was looking at a very personal picture of Patrick Kane, freshly fucked and wearing Jonathan Toews’ Olympic Gold Medal. Indigently wearing Johnny’s medal – he might add.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pulling for Gold (A Hard Won Battle)

 

 

Sochi was one of the best experiences Jamie had in his young, playing career. There were times when Sid would be describing a play - Johnny leaning over his shoulder to add a pass and Jamie had to take a moment. Realize that two of the best players in the league trusted him to make crazy, amazing plays.

 

Between the time the gold medal was placed around his neck and the champagne bottles were being passed around he had built some weird, Canadian bond with every, single guy. 

 

Now it didn’t come as a surprise when Getzlaf would send him videos of his children being cute or Subban would text him about how crazy his rookies were. So he didn’t think much of it when Johnny sent him a dozen pictures of fish he had caught during the summer.

 

He was lazily scrolling through them in bed when he had to pause at a picture. It took him a long beat to fully realize what he was looking at. It wasn’t a dead, gaping fish – that was for sure. 

 

Wide, blown cerulean eyes were staring back at him. Curly blond hair just in frame – sweat slick and mussed. The picture was blurry and dim but the annoyed pout edged in pale skin was vivid red and bruised – burnt into Jamie’s brain almost instantly. But it was the glint of gold that caught most of his attention. Dangling smugly around Kane’s naked neck and he would have to take a puck to the head to think it was anyone else but Patrick Kane.

 

It all came to Jamie at once – the realization that he was looking at a very personal picture of Patrick Kane, freshly fucked and wearing Jonathan Toews’ Olympic Gold Medal. Indigently wearing Johnny’s medal – he might add.

 

Patrick had the same distressed look on his face that Segs’ dogs had when they tried to wrestle Halloween costumes on them and snap pictures before they tore the offending items off.

 

Jamie suddenly had a crystal clear image in his head of Johnny screwing Patrick with strong hip thrusts. Holding back nothing and never letting up because Jamie assumed that Toews fucked like he played.  Patrick would have been a breathless mess – either on the verge of coming or just satiated by the time Johnny put that gold medal around his neck.

 

He would have probably let out a disgruntled whimper but would have been too limp and tired to fight Johnny’s crowning moment. Those perfect few seconds that everything he had ever worked for were snapped in one quick picture.

 

His beautiful linemate well fucked by his own doing  - wearing the Gold Medal he battled the best players in the league to win. Jamie knew he would feel tons of shame later but he couldn’t stop his hand from wandering down his abs and under the elastic of his boxers as he felt his dick grow in his hand.

 

He gave himself a few steady strokes – gathering up pre-come to make everything slick. He stared at the picture on his phone as he built a rhythm. The well-wrecked mouth, the meek fold of shoulders curving down to that shiny gold medal felt like victory – and it made Jamie pull himself harder into his palm because he knew it wasn’t his.

 

He snapped his eyes closed. Let the image form in his head – not Johnny’s triumph but his own. Jamie had worked his ass off to earn everything he got. Not every 129th overall pick became captain of an NHL team and won Gold at the Olympics.

 

That was his – just like Tyler. Jamie played every shift like it was game seven just to be worthy of having Seguin as his center. And off the ice he had to overcome his shyness and stubbornness to earn a place in Tyler’s affections.

 

The first few kisses they shared had ghosts of every past lover – Brownie, Marchy, Blacker and Zotto. Jamie had to press harder – making sure his every touch was etched on Tyler’s skin for days. Making sure that all his kisses lingered in Tyler’s mind and left him wanting more.   

 

He was incorrigible and Tyler welcomed his alpha act with open arms and a pleased laugh. But he wasn’t sure if Tyler would be so affable about the image that was forming in Jamie’s head.

 

Tyler didn’t have to say much but Jamie knew how upset he was when he didn’t get picked for team Canada. He put in the labor all season – proving to everyone he wasn’t every bad rumor that the Bruins had traded him on.

 

He definitely wouldn’t appreciate that Jamie wanted him just like Johnny had Kane. Submissively sprawled on their bed with Jamie’s gold medal around his neck - a prize for the taking. A well-screwed, sweat-damp, docile prize wrapped in Jamie’s sheets.

 

Segs would bulk at the idea but that didn’t stop Jamie’s brain and dick from wanting just that. He stroked himself harder – feeling his orgasm curling around his hips and filling his balls. It would have taken only a few more pumps – three at most and he would have been done but that’s when Tyler decided to make his presence known.

 

Fresh from the weight room and just in a pair of shorts – Tyler stopped short of their bed as he noticed Jamie with one hand down his boxers and the other grasping his phone. A wide grin formed on his face as he hustled to the bed – wrestling himself on top of Jamie who had froze for just a beat before he realized what Tyler was trying to do.

 

It wasn’t the first time that Tyler had caught Jamie jerking off and decided to give a helping hand. But as he planted his butt right down onto Jamie boxer-clad dick he had other plans besides getting him off. He went straight for the phone and Jamie could do little to keep it in his sweaty palm.

 

The grin slowly faded from Tyler’s face as he got a good look at the picture that his boyfriend was jerking off to. Hurt creasing his features as he detangled himself from Jamie. For his part Jamie sputtered – trying to keep Tyler close with hands and knees.

 

“Baby, it’s not like that.” Jamie tried, wincing at how pathetic his own words sounded.

 

Tyler inched to the edge of the bed, scrolling through Jamie’s phone. He let out a snort but didn’t leave the confines of the bed and Jamie took that as a small win. But just to be sure he took hold of Tyler’s ankle – pulling him closer and just wanting to touch him. His boner was long gone but he needed to touch Tyler – feel his skin under his own.

 

“This…” Tyler said, waving the phone in front of Jamie’s face,” looks like Johnny Boy gloating and pretending like it was an accident. Typical Tazor” Then Tyler gestured towards Jamie’s boxers - where an undignified wet spot had formed. “This looks like you enjoyed it.” 

 

“I was thinking of you the whole time. Not Pat.” Jamie pleaded with half-truths – knowing that he was shit at lying and that he sounded just as guilty.

 

Tyler rolled his eyes – calling Jamie’s bullshit with a kick of his foot. “I guess my basic brown-eyes and slutty ways isn’t doing it for you anymore. Does Kaner’s whole cherub thing and sluttier ways get you off? Either way you’d be sticking your dick in a petri dish. I would know. Me and Kaner pretty much orgied our way through the lockout in Switzerland. I’m surprised anyone would enter our apartments without a hazmat suit.” 

 

Jamie had been called gullible before and for good reason but even he could tell when he was being played. Tyler knew that Jamie had a jealous streak a mile long and that every word was spit out like venom – attacking Jamie’s ability to think rationally.

 

He tightened his grip on Tyler’s ankle pulling the struggling brunette closer - using his extra mass to his advantage. “You are a fucking liar. You spent the lockout angsting over every text and call Brad wouldn’t return.”

 

Tyler flinched like he’d been hit before swinging an arm out wildly and catching Jamie in the jaw. It wasn’t hard enough for Jamie to let go but the blow sent them both tumbling on the bed. Tyler continued to struggle as Jamie caught flailing limbs and wrapped himself – arms and legs – around the smaller man.

 

Jamie smothered the fight out of Tyler’s body and waited until he went limp in his arms – probably already tired from his workout. “I’m a fucking liar, too. I was jerking off to that picture but not because it was Kane.”

 

Jamie had to be careful with his next words – knowing that Tyler was already riled up and pissed off. This was the worst time to bring up the Olympics but he didn’t have to. “It was the gold medal. It was because he was wearing Toews’ gold medal right after he fucked him.” Tyler whispered, and Jamie could only nod. “You want that. Want me…”

 

“More than I want the Stanley Cup,” Jamie blurted out and was surprised to hear Tyler’s breathy, laugh ticking his ear.  “I wanna lay you out, fuck you raw and make you wear my gold medal. All my prizes – right there for me to keep.”

 

Tyler was quiet for a beat and Jamie could have swallowed his own tongue in those seconds from nervousness. “Am I your prize?”

 

“You’re my everything.” Jamie didn’t hesitate. Those words flowed freely from his tongue as easily as his own namesake because it was the truth. Tyler had become his world so quickly that sometimes it still shocked him how much the younger man had changed his entire life.

 

“Too bad your parents have your medal. Or else I’d let you fuck me right now while I wore it around my neck and nothing else.” Tyler’s talented tongue had its way with Jamie’s neck between each word. Jamie was totally here for that as he rubbed his hardening cock against Tyler’s thigh.

 

“Don’t mention my parents while you do that to my neck and I do this to your thigh.” Jamie groaned as he thrust his dick against form thighs – searching for Tyler’s turgid heat.

 

“I have an idea.” Tyler yelped, scrambling off of Jamie – ignoring the bigger man’s protests. He sprinted into Jamie’s closet – causing a racket of noisy hangers and belt buckles.

 

Tyler came out a second later and Jamie immediately knew it was all worth it. The brunette was clad in Jamie’s Canada jersey and nothing else. He sauntered to the bed and did a little twirl – showing Jamie his own number and name stitched across the back.

 

The _Benn_ was too wide across Tyler shoulders and the twenty-two curved around his back but to Jamie it was a perfect fit in every way. Tyler looked over his shoulder – meeting Jamie’s eyes. A grin played at the tip of his mouth. “Will this do?”

 

Jamie didn’t answer right away – deciding to pull Tyler at the waist until he was laid out across Jamie’s chest – torso to back. His fingers played with the hem of the jersey – barely covering Tyler’s well-muscled thighs.  It hid nothing but just enough to get Jamie crazy with arousal. He let his lips graze where the neck met collar and he felt his dick jolt at the innocent contact. “You are perfect.”

 

The next time Jamie looked at the clock it was four in the morning. He knew both their bodies would hate them come practice because of the Olympic style sex that was just performed on their bed.  But looking at Tyler’s sleeping form he really couldn’t care. Tyler was resting on his stomach – exhausted and sore. His face framed by the pillow as he snored softly – lips a bruised mess. The jersey was still in place – stuck to Tyler’s skin with sweat, spit and cum. Jamie didn’t know how he was going to explain that to his dry-cleaner but knew it would come with a hefty tip.

 

That’s when he noticed his phone – blinking at him with new messages from the other side of the bed. He wasn’t surprised that Johnny had sent him a few of them.

 

_I think I sent you the wrong picture._

_My mistake, buddy. Sorry._

_You can delete that if you want._

_Just got the medal cleaned. Wanted to keep a memento for myself._

_Didn’t mean to send it to you at all._

Jamie glared at the text – finally realizing that Johnny was a worst liar than he was. But looking back at Tyler he decided that Johnny wasn’t the only Canadian hockey player who could be a smug bastard. With that he snapped a quick picture of Tyler - Jamie’s name and number visible just below his sleeping face.  He typed out a reply before sending both to Johnny.

 

_Trust me. I know what you mean, buddy._

 

 

 


End file.
